“Goeben helps out a good deal. We have fighters to blind enemy eyes in the sky, Stukas to get after their ships and airfields if necessary.”
“That is good, but if you do make contact, and battle is inevitable, then what?”
“My good man, Kaiser Wilhelm can run at 36 knots. I can choose to fight what I wish, and outrun anything else.”
“Choose to fight only if there is no alternative,” Detmers cautioned. “I know this will be difficult. You are a fighting officer, I can see that, and you will want to use those nice big guns, but this is a battle we win by avoiding engagement. Suppose even a little destroyer were to get lucky and put a 5-inch shell right on your precious naval rocket? Then what will you bring to the Führer for your Gift of the Magi?”
“I understand what you are saying,” said Heinrich.
“Another thing,” said Detmers. “Your war diary and ship’s logs. You must be very careful what you say there. If, for any reason, they come into the enemy’s hands, they will know what we have done. So word things cleverly. Use code known only to you, or one or two other reliable men. And if worse should ever come to worse, you must be prepared to scuttle everything, get rid of it all, the diaries, your Enigma equipment, ship’s logs, even those magazines you’ve been flaunting, not to mention all the equipment we take from that American ship. We have special weighted bags for that. You should have some similar means of disposing of everything.”
“We’ll never let that happen,” said Heinrich confidently.
“That’s the spirit, but things do happen at sea that a man might never expect,” said Detmers. “Think about that. There you were, out in the middle of nowhere, and then you suddenly bump right into a British carrier making this secret rendezvous with that American ship. Expect the unexpected. That is the hard lesson there that has thankfully delivered this prize to our hands. Then think again about this. If that interpretation of your engagement is correct, then the British know what they lost, and what we have taken from them. Believe me, they will move heaven and earth to stop us from doing the very thing we are planning now.”
“Well considered, Detmers. Yes, you know your business well.”
“Let’s just say I am a quick learner,” Detmers smiled. “We should therefore assume the waters to the north will be quite dangerous, but, by not putting all our eggs in one basket, one of us will get through. I’m sure of it.”
“I have every intention of getting through,” said Heinrich. “Here we sit, a couple wise men bearing gifts. This could mean everything, Detmers. It could change the entire course of the war, ensure our victory, and rewrite all those magazine articles.”
Detmers chuckled at that. “I wonder if you really believe those magazines are what they appear to be. 1958? That is sixteen long years away!”
“Yes, but if it is true, however impossible it may seem, then we have technology in our hands that is sixteen years ahead of anything we can build today. That is all that matters.”
“Unless…” Detmers smiled.
“Unless what?” Heinrich waited, wondering what this last objection might be.
“Unless those are simply dummy rockets, fabrications, just as those magazines must surely be.”
“Dummies?”
“Of course. We have never answered the question as to why the British or Americans would leave such a ship adrift like that, and with the most advanced weapons to come along in decades. I have heard all the talk about these naval rockets. They represent an evolutionary leap in naval warfare. We thought we were on to something with the development of aircraft carriers like the British, Americans and Japanese. You yourself see how useful even a small ship like the Goeben is. The Japanese certainly know how to use them, and they will make battleships and even fast battlecruisers like yours obsolete. But here we have a new weapon that can trump the carrier. You heard what that naval rocket did to Graf Zeppelin. This changes everything.”
“And we will be the men responsible for that change,” said Heinrich, reaching again for the brandy. “Another drink, Detmers. To the Gift of the Magi! If need be I will sacrifice everything to get at least one of those naval rockets home intact. And if it is a ruse, then I’ll be the biggest fool in the world, and they can lock me away with that box of newspapers and magazines as my only solace.”
“Yes,” said Detmers. “And let us also be careful what we wish for here. The one thing I have heard about these rockets is that they cannot be stopped. Give them to the Führer, and he won’t be stopped either…”
Heinrich thought about that, but said nothing more.
That night, all four ships were in the bay, and the engineers worked all night to move the rockets. There was plenty of room on the Goeben’s lower deck, and Kapitan Falkenrath, knowing how important his new guest was, had the rocket moved to a section that was closer to the armored segment of the ship, and then heavily sand bagged. Nothing was said to him about the magazine articles, and he himself said nothing to Heinrich about the strange reports that had noted his ship missing for some time off his bow. His own ship’s log would later belie his secret.
02:30 -37° 94’S; -11° 82’E: Odd auroras and brilliant white flash extending over entire horizon. Smokey cloud at 182° true, with strange phosphorescence. Watchman reports he has lost position of Kaiser Wilhelm ahead.
02:45 ESE 4; sea 3-4: Swell from WNW and NE, overcast, with clearing segments and better visibility. No sign of Kaiser Wilhelm, no word on W/T. Strange auroras persist. Engines set for ‘ahead one third,’ and Kapitan orders watch doubled on all masts.
03:48 - Still no sighting of Kaiser Wilhelm after a long hour’s search. Kapitan orders word sent to flight deck to prepare a seaplane for night search operation. Plotted approximate expected course for Kaiser Wilhelm at ‘full speed’ to determine farthest on.
04:10 - Mainmast watch calls ‘ship ahead’ [visible] against a strangely lit horizon. Intercept course set, with engines set ahead two thirds. Goeben approaches from darkness, possibly unseen. Use of wireless not permitted, but a recognition flare is fired off.
04:18 - Watchman positively identifies Kaiser Wilhelm, but in the company of another ship. Fast approaching in the darkness, the Kapitan orders ahead one third to slow the ship and prevent any possible collision. No sign of hostilities or engagement underway. Lamp signals flashed to Kaiser Wilhelm, and proper return received.
Kapitan Falkenrath would ask Heinrich how he had come by his prize in the final briefing before the ships left the bay. “It was just sitting there,” said Heinrich. “So I took it. What else?”
The following morning, the ships slipped out of the bay, with the men Detmers had recommended, Leutnants Meyer and Kube boarding the American ship to lead the prize crew. It was decided that the two warships, having much greater speed, would go on ahead. Even if they reduced to cruise at half speed, it would mean Kormoran and the prize ship would have to be running full out at 18 knots. The warships each took one rocket, as Heinrich had planned, and the radar sets and other equipment were distributed evenly, leaving whatever was left over on the prize ship for Detmers to rendezvous with a U-boat and hand off what he deemed suitable.
So instead of a journey into the Indian Ocean to harry the British convoys, Kaiser Wilhelm turned north, with Goeben in her wake, about 3000 meters behind, as always.
Let us hope the Kapitan doesn’t pull another disappearing act on us, thought Falkenrath. And let us hope the British are so worried we are down here, that they will not think to look for us again up north. We’ve come nearly 8000 nautical miles south after attacking that British convoy, and now we go back again, that is after we find a tanker and take on more fuel. If everything goes well, we will be back in Gibraltar in about two weeks.
If wishes were horses….
Part VIII
Plan 7
“The general who wins the battle makes many calculations in his temple before the battle is fought. The general who loses makes but few calculations beforehand, and rushes blindl
y into combat seeking a victory that may never be his.”
― Sun Tzu: The Art of War
Chapter 22
Hajime Sujiyama was a stolid, bullish man, Chief of the Army General Staff. The samurai sword of his ancestors hung always at his side, and those ancient warriors were often on his mind, which wandered in the ancient castle of Kokura, where the old Daimyos of the Ogasawara and Hosokawa held sway. His mind was as sharp as the blades of Miyamoto Musashi, the famous ronin swordsman who always fought with two weapons at one time. He had been Minister of War when the fighting first broke out in Manchuko, and Campaigned with the North China Army. So now this alarming news coming from Kamchatka and Sakhalin was most disturbing. Today he would meet with Prime Minister Hideki Tojo to discuss the formal declaration of war with Siberia, and plan Japan’s response.
“The announcement will be made formally this afternoon and broadcast from Tokyo,” said Tojo.
“I was afraid our business in the north was not yet concluded,” said Sujiyama.
“Yes,” Tojo remarked with the slight edge of sarcasm in his tone. “Your prediction in 1937 that our invasion of China would be completed in three months was quite bold, and we are still there.”
“Do not taunt me,” said Sujiyama. “I can still feel the sting of the Emperor’s rebuke. The question now is what we must do about this situation. That attack on the Kido Butai was insult enough, and it is you who must explain the loss of an aircraft carrier to a third rate power without so much as five destroyers in its navy. As for me, it is time I returned to the Kwantung Army, and settled affairs in the north.”
“Do not bother yourself with that personally,” said Tojo. “I have someone else in mind. What is the latest report?”
“The Siberians have landed what appears to be two divisions on the west coast of southern Kamchatka. There is only one road to speak of from that region to the Pacific port at Kazantochi, and they have moved very rapidly along it, seizing all the landing strips. Now they are at Nachiki, the new airfield we were building there in the inland valley.”
“How could they move so quickly? How could these sea landings have been carried out unnoticed?”
“Quite simple—no one was looking. The navy has settled at Karamushiro Island, just off the tip of Kamchatka, and now that the ice makes operations to the north troublesome, they discontinued regular destroyer patrols.”
“That was why the Siberians waited to make this attack.They are moving with ski troops, and by airship.”
“Airship? What is the air force doing about it?”
“When the weather permits, they fly, which isn’t often. But those old airships are more durable than we realized. We suffer now because we have simply underestimated the cunning and resolve of our enemy.”
“Outrageous,” said Tojo. “What will you do about it?”
“Whatever the Emperor commands. At present, the 4th Independent Mixed Brigade is holding the area around Kazantochi. Colonel Ozawa has asked for reinforcements, but says he will hold that ground to the last man, even if we send him nothing. But now that these new landings have taken place on Sakhalin Island, we simply must respond. Those airfields are valuable. They cannot be taken by the enemy, as he will certainly invite the Americans to use them in time. That is the real threat here—American troops and aircraft on Siberian soil. To prevent that possibility, and re-secure our northern holdings, we must now contemplate much stronger measures. The garrisons in place on Kamchatka and Sakhalin will not suffice.”
“Then what do you suggest?”
“I was planning to go there myself and assemble a corps to deal with the situation. Who is this other man you speak of?”
“Our little Tiger in Malaya, General Yamashita.”
“Yamashita? He has not yet completed his work at Singapore.”
“Exactly. He will if I leave him there, and then he will want to come home to take his laurels. Remember, he’s a troublemaker. I want him isolated from any contact with the Emperor. I had planned on re-assigning him to the northern command in any case. So now let him take this position and deal with the Siberian Front. The orders have already been given.”
“Without consulting me?”
“That is what this meeting is about. Do you object?”
Sujiyama stewed for a moment, then relented. “Very well, send Yamashita.”
“And what troops can we give him?”
“They will have to come from the Kwantung Army. I will speak with General Umezu. There has been some Siberian movement along the Baikal front, but we believe it is nothing more than a feint. What they seem to be most interested in are the ports and airfields in Kamchatka and Sakhalin. They must never get them, and if they do, then we must certainly take them back. In the short run, we can send elements of the 73rd Brigade in the northern Kuriles. Two or three battalions can go by sea to reinforce Kazantochi, and the navy is putting together a task force to accompany them. One good battleship in the bay should be able to provide heavy artillery support. The Siberians will soon see that landing there is one thing, fighting there another.”
“Be careful, General, this is territory where they have lived and fought for centuries. We can expect no help from the indigenous population, such as it is. It is amazing that they have the temerity to strike us like this, but this rebellion must be put down this week.”
“A moment ago you criticized me for my own predictions concerning Northern China. Now you want all of Kamchatka secured in a week? It will take two weeks just to bring in reinforcements.”
“Just see that it is done. But bear in mind that the Strike South camp will not permit any troops to be taken from those already assigned to offensive operations there. Any forces you give to Yamashita must come from the Kwantung Army.”
“Three divisions should be able to do the job,” said Sujiyama. “I will see the orders reach the appropriate commanders.” He settled into his chair, thinking.
“And when we are done with the bravado here,” said Tojo, “tell me what you really think.”
Sujiyama looked at him, his hand on the haft of his sword. “I think that now we must fight like Miyamoto Musashi, with two blades, and win our victories on both fronts… Or lose them. Only time and the valor of our soldiers will tell the end of that tale.”
“Which front gets the long sword?”
“The south, of course, even though all our victories will come from the south in the next few months. After that, the troops will sit on their islands and wait for the Americans. But we will be fighting in the north for a very long time.”
“Then we must do so as Musashi advises,” said Tojo. “Does he not say that to wield the sword well, you must do so calmly, purposefully?”
“We will do so,” said Sujiyama, “respecting both Buddha and the gods as we fight.”
“Of course,” said Tojo. “But we must not count on their help. This war will take a good deal longer than any of us first thought or realized. Now we win, then we struggle not to lose what we have taken. Considering that an enemy as weak as Siberia would dare raise its hand against us, I can only imagine what the Americans will do when they draw their swords in anger. The attack on Pearl Harbor must have enraged them. Considering the losses we took in the carrier divisions, Yamamoto will be the one to apologize to the emperor, not me. It was he who insisted on that operation.”
“That sword may be dented, but it is not yet broken. Just be certain Yamamoto uses it effectively. We will need the navy to cover and support the movement of reinforcements to Sakhalin and Kamchatka.”
“You may make that request directly to Yamamoto.” Tojo rubbed his hairless head. “For now, find General Yamashita his divisions.”
* * *
Karpov had carefully chosen his initial objectives. On Kamchatka, his troops had made amazing progress along the single mountain road, finally meeting Colonel Ozawa’s defense as the road reached the open lowlands rolling down to the harbor. A bitter fight ensued, with three Japanese battalions in
line, standing like a stone wall holding back the mounting pressure of the Siberian advance. One by one, more Siberian units arrived, as the men of the 92nd division finally came up.
The defense had been foiled in the long run because the Siberians had been able to meet it piecemeal. The battalions of the 4th Mixed Brigade had been strung out along the road and defeated trying to secure Nachiki air field. What remained of them fell back to Koryaki, to join the rest of the brigade, which was then set upon by the full weight of all Karpov’s forces, nearly two divisions strong.
Eventually, the pressure on that wall was simply too great, and the Japanese were forced back to the southeast, taking heavy casualties. The Siberians overran Mitsunami Airfield, then used it to stage further air mobile operations with their Zeppelins. These troops were air lifted east of the port to open another front there, and stretch the available defense even thinner.
By this time, the navy had been alerted to the situation, and was finally assembling forces to intervene. Elements of the 73rd Brigade were planning to move from the island of Shumushu, ready to board transports for the journey up the long, ragged coast by sea to Kazantochi. One of Japan’s old heavy battleships would be selected to lead the operation, the venerable Mutsu.
She was the second and final ship in the Nagato Class, laid down in June of 1918, and commissioned two years later in May of 1920. Displacing 46,690 metric tons at deep load, she was a big ship, 100 feet longer and 10 feet wider abeam than King George V after her most recent refit in 1936. Old and slow, the ship could push 25 knots on a good day, but she carried a good punch, eight 16-inch guns that had been on reserve for the Tosa Class Battleships that became the carriers Tosa and Kaga instead.
Only the massive Yamato class carried anything bigger, and only the new battleships Satsuma and Hiraga had anything equivalent with their nine 16-inch guns. During negotiations for the Washington Naval Treaty in 1922, the Americans tried to have the ship scrapped as a newborn, but the Japanese managed to save her from the administrative chopping block.
Knight's Move (Kirov Series Book 21) Page 19